Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
T here have been very few times in my life where I’ve battled with myself. I’m equipped enough to detach my feelings when it comes to relationships—my parents, a prime example—and I have no problem in doing what I need to in order to get shit done. But it’s almost concerning how much I wished I could’ve warned Alvaro about the Federovs’ plans.
The worst part is, infiltrating Bonanno’s weapons shipment wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Konstantin won’t stop until he gets what he wants, which means the battle with myself that I’m so eagerly avoiding, has just begun.
“Milo,” Kai mutters beside me, the shadows of the alleyway we’re standing in masking his features. “He’s here.”
Footsteps draw my attention as the sound echoes between the buildings. I turn to face a man who’s sauntering awfully cockily towards us. He had a hood up, so I can’t see his features, but Kai seems to know who this person is, and if he trusts him, then I guess I have to as well.
Kai steps forward, almost like he’s protecting me. He doesn’t need to, but I appreciate it all the same. “Prescott,” he greets. “This is Kyrovsky.”
The man I now know as Prescott reaches forward to shake my hand. I grunt in response, staring down at it for a moment, taking a drag from my cigarette and expelling the smoke around him. I’ve always been taught that manners are one of the pillars that build a good rapport, but I’m not sure I want any kind of involvement with this guy. Something about him feels off.
“What have you got for us?” I grunt, dropping my cigarette to the ground and stamping it out. I glare at him, waiting for his answer.
Tucking his hands in his jeans, he bristles against the gust of wind that roars through the alleyway. He looks nervous. Good. He should be. Nothing good has ever come from a secret meeting in an alley.
“That depends. What do you need?”
I huff loud enough to make him jolt. I hate games, and I hate being played. If he’s here to get a payout, he won’t get it. The silence that stretches between us is enough for him to reconsider his approach. He flips down his hood, squaring me with a confident smirk.
“Genovese has opened a fight club,” he tells me.
I nod boredly. It’s not news to me—I knew sooner or later Roman Genovese would ignore the fact that the fight nights are our business. After closing down The Laundromat, I expected him to retaliate. Since we stepped on his toes, he’s making a point of stepping on ours. What I want to know is how this fucker knows, and what he wants in return for this information.
Pushing forward, I level Prescott with an empty smirk. “We already know this,” I challenge. “What else?”
He shakes his head, glancing over my shoulder pleadingly to where Kai is standing. “That’s all I’ve got.”
Turning, I tilt my head at Kai. “You brought me here for this?” I’m almost disappointed that Kai set this meeting up, especially when it has no real value.
“Not quite,” he replies, clearing his throat. “Prescott can help us.”
I return my attention to Prescott and narrow my eyes on him. “How so?”
“He’s a cop,” Kai provides. “He has insider information that we can use. He can help us.”
I’m still focused on the man in front of me, trying to figure out what his game is. “The Italians own the NYPD,” I sneer. “How can I trust you’re not working for them?”
“You can’t,” he answers. “But I’m willing to prove it.”
“What’s in it for you?” I counter.
“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in helping you remove your competition,” Prescott answers. His eyes sharpen with an intensity that reminds me so much of a certain Italian. There’s animosity in his gaze, disgust at the mere thought of The Five. Whatever his reasons are, it’s clear he’s just as determined to take them down. But he probably doesn’t have the manpower or any kind of power to do that. We do, which means he’s willing to put his head on our chopping block instead of the Italians’.
I still don’t trust the guy, but like he said, he’s willing to prove his worth, so it’s definitely something to take back to Konstantin. Giving Kai the nod to signal we’re done here, we move in unison past Prescott.
“Kyrovsky?”
I halt, still facing towards the opening of the alley. When I don’t answer, Prescott continues.
“I’d take a walk over to Sutton Street if I were you. That’s the place to be tonight.”
His words sink in far too quickly. I’m smart enough to put the puzzle pieces together, but there’s really no need for him to be so cryptic. Doesn’t matter. I continue my amble back towards the car with Kai in tow.
When we’re seated in the plush leather of the SUV, I start up the engine. Having a cop on our side will definitely help Konstantin and his plans to move in on The Five. Though the plan was a slow moving one, this could be the ticket to speeding things up.
“What’s the plan?” Kai asks as he rubs his hands together.
Turning his way, I offer him a smile. “Wanna catch some blood?”
* * *
T here’s no chance of missing the location of Genovese’s underground fight den— though underground is a poor choice of words, because the warehouse we’re situated in front of is lit up like the fucking Rockefeller Christmas Tree, music blaring and vibrating the steel shell.
I shut the engine off, watching the patrons milling outside exchanging product, money, and other contraband. A whistle escapes me as I take in the scene. Genovese has really done well for himself here. I didn’t think someone could make such a quick turnaround, but he has. You can feel the excitement buzzing in the air, and I haven’t even stepped out of the car yet.
Men dressed in black attire stand in front of the doorway to the warehouse. Though I doubt there’s a list, I’m wary that any commotion will alert the guys inside. And after how things went down with me and Varo the other night, I’m conscious he’s still in a volatile state. I mean, when is he not? The guy is constantly in a mood, or maybe that’s just me.
“What’re we doing here?” Kai asks.
In all honesty, I can’t answer that. Some part of me felt like it was my duty to scope out the competition so I could report back to Konstantin, but the other part of me, the part that still calls to the remnants of my soul, is wanting to reach out to Alvaro. For what? I’m not sure. But one thing I do know is I can’t walk into that place and tell him his dirty cops are fucking him over.
“Milo—”
“What?” I snap at Kai, who’s pointing to the doorway of the warehouse. My eyes lock on a girl gripping the wall, clutching her chest. This isn’t just any girl. She’s the spitting image of Alvaro, with jet black hair and stubborn features.
I’m stepping out of the car before I realize what I’m doing. Kai’s voice calls me back, but I ignore it, my feet picking up and stopping short in just a few strides as the girl keels over to grip her knees. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t be standing in front of them, concern rippling through me. But the similarities between her and the guy I’ve been quietly obsessing over are so captivating that I feel like it’s my duty to check on her.
“You okay?” I ask cautiously.
Inhaling deeply, she straightens herself up, facing me with dark eyes that are rounded with so much fear that I can taste it.
“Yeah,” she exhales, though I can tell it’s a lie.
Tilting my head, I quickly survey her. She doesn’t look hurt, and she certainly doesn’t look drunk, but… “You sure? You don’t look it.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assures me, taking another deep breath. “I just?—”
“What’re you doing here, Milo?” Varo’s voice cuts through the air, and I don’t have the chance to turn around. He does it for me, shoving me up against the wall with his body pressing against mine.
Over his shoulder, I see Kai stepping out of the car. I can’t let him get involved . This isn’t the time or place, and I certainly don’t want him causing any more drama than I apparently already have. Subtly, I shake my head, hoping he picks up on the signal.
For a beat, he stands staring at me, then offers me a nod before sliding back into the SUV.
“Stay away from my sister, Kyrovsky!” Varo’s hot breath skates over me, filled with the promise of violence. I’ve heard all about The Five and their offspring—mainly the legacy leaders; Bonanno, Gambino and Genovese. But his sister, she’s done well to remain out of the spotlight, because she wasn’t picked up on my radar.
“You really think I’d hurt her?” I scoff.
His hand comes to my throat, rage roaring in his dark irises. “I don’t know what you’re fucking capable of, that’s the fucking problem!”
“Vee,” his sister pleads behind him. She rests a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs her off.
“Stay the fuck out of this Alanis!” That fire in his eyes is about to explode into an inferno. He’s protective, I’ll give him that, and with good reason. He does right by her to remain vigilant around the likes of me, but personally, I wouldn’t do a thing to her. I wish I could say the same about the Federovs.
“Varo!” she growls, trying to pull him off me. It’s no use, though. He’s feral, and she’s not strong enough to break him away.
“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head!” he snarls.
Footsteps rush towards us, but I’m locked in a staring contest with Varo. “Because you’d miss me,” I smirk.
He slams me back against the wall, the metal rumbling behind me. It takes me back to a few nights ago at the docks, when Varo did all he could to distance himself from me. He should know by now that’s not possible. There’s something connecting us, a cataclysmic attraction that means no matter how much we fight it, we’re always going to collide.
Alanis rushes away from Varo, joining who I now see is Roman. He clutches her with predator-like strength, turning her in his arms to check her over.
“Did he touch you?” he asks angrily.
“What?” She frowns. “No! He was just?—”
“Relax, Genovese.” I raise my palms in the air. “I saw your girl out here and was just checking she was okay.”
“Why are you here?” Varo growls, even deeper than before.
“I just came to check the fights out,” I say. Only half a lie.
“So you can feed information back to the Federovs?” Varo’s tone is venomous, his expression taut with anger. He’s practically shaking with rage, which strangely excites me. I’ve seen the possessive side of Varo, the one that he unleashes only when he’s around me. I’d be interested to see how his feral side plays out.
“You think we’re just going to let you walk in there?” Varo questions me.
“Why not?” I smirk back at him. “I let you do the same.”
“Vee,” Roman interrupts, stepping forward to break the tension between us. “Just leave it.”
Once more, I’m shoved back against the wall, but Varo backs away. His glare transforms into a warning, one that I understand clearly. I’d be an idiot not to see it. Then again, I’m an idiot for him.
Acknowledging this moment as a loss, I push past Varo, tossing a glance over my shoulder to Roman and Alanis. Roman’s grip tightens around her, but little does he know he has nothing to worry about. Though now that we’re in this little predicament, I kind of like the wariness that envelops them.
Good. They need to stay on their toes, because when this war unfolds, they’ll recognise who is really on their side.